by S. Van Horne
“Tomorrow,” I tell her, and her eyes widen.
“What?”
“A car will pick you up at five.”
“Five?”
“He likes purple,” I share, thinking about her golden skin in that color. Would it be lace or satin? Did it matter if it ended up on the floor?
“Wear something special for him. Listen to the driver’s instructions. Trust him,” I order. “Your man will be waiting for you.”
“My man,” she repeats, a cute look of confusion settling over her face. I can’t focus on anything but the fact that, if this works out, by tomorrow night, she’ll finally be mine. I lean forward, closing the space between us, turning my mouth just at the last moment to kiss her cheek. I let my lips linger longer than they should, tempted to steal a taste of her. Instead, I feel the softness of her warm skin and breathe in her familiar scent.
Soon.
“Be ready by five.” I step away and wink at her, walking straight to my truck, mentally high-fiving myself with what I have up my sleeve.
Time’s no longer going to be my enemy. I’m going after her, and Rocio will know she belongs to me.
ROCIO
Lying in bed, sleep is pretty much elusive, and it has nothing to do with the uncomfortable summer heat.
It’s all my big mouth and Jason Somers’ fault. I grab my phone from the nightstand and scroll down to his number to cancel whoever he thought would be the perfect guy for me. But before I get to his number, my phone dings.
Jason: Are you up?
Maybe this perfect guy couldn’t do it? Maybe he was going to let me out of whatever crazy thing I got myself into?
Me: Yeah
The bubbles pop up, letting me know he started to text. They suddenly stop, and I frown. I’m just about to write him asking him what he wants, when my phone rings, and his face flashes on my screen.
“Hey,” I whisper into the phone.
“You should be sleeping.”
“I should be, but I can’t”
“Why?”
“My AC is acting up again,” I lie. “You should be sleeping. You get deliveries on Thursdays.”
“Jax is taking care of it tomorrow.”
“He is?” The younger Somers brother, Jax, was the carefree one, but he had recently tied himself to a woman, and they were inseparable. I couldn’t see him volunteering for the early delivery they received on a weekly basis.
“He is.”
“He volunteered?”
“Baby, I don’t wanna talk about Jax,” his voice rumbles, and there was that dang baby that leaves me breathless.
“Oh.” I bite my lower lip and find the courage to ask, “What do you want to talk about?”
“You.”
“Me? I’m not very interesting, Jason, you know that.”
“I beg to differ, Row,” his voice rasps and goosebumps fill my skin, making me shift in bed.
“I’m sure you know everything about me.”
“I’m pretty sure I can give you a mile-long list of things I don’t know.”
“You could?” I ask, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. “That’s not even possible, we’ve known one another half our lives.”
“Row, I got a feeling I could spend every day with you the next forty years and still not know everything about you.” His words sound so sincere and achingly sweet, it’s hard not to let myself believe.
“I don’t know what to say.” I sigh.
“Nothing to say when it’s just the truth.”
“What’s going on, Jay?” I ask, wondering what this change in character has to do with.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t remember the last late-night phone call we shared,” I say softly, turning to my side, my arm under my pillow.
“Really? Because I can.”
“You can?” I whisper, trying to remember.
“Your mom was just out of the hospital, a couple months ago, and you were worried.”
“Jay.”
“Before your mom got sick, it was when you broke up with that dumbass, Matt. About two years ago.”
“Max.”
“Whatever his name was, he was the biggest dumbass you dated.”
“He wasn’t a dumbass, we just wanted different things.” I wanted monogamy, and he didn’t believe in the concept.
“He let you go; he was a dumbass.” He’s gruff and leaves me slightly speechless.
I clear my throat before I continue our conversation, “You’re being sweet, and I don’t know what to do with it.”
“Are you going to wear purple tomorrow?”
“Why purple? How do you even know he will like—”
“Love,” he interrupts me, and my heart starts to thunder away harder in my chest. “He will love you in purple.”
“He will?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Who are you setting me up with, Jason? I thought all your guys quit.”
“I bet you love your neck being kissed.” My breath catches in my throat, and my heart does a somersault. “Bet that’s what would get you to purr like a damn kitten.” A guttural sound from the back of my throat escapes. “Fuck,” he groans, and my breathing picks up. “Those little sounds are going to kill me, Rocio.”
“Jason,” I whisper almost breathlessly, a familiar ache growing between my legs.
“Do you ever think about us?”
“What?” My heart’s stomping in my chest.
“I do. All the goddamn time,” he confesses, and I lick my lips, trying to think of something witty or smart to say.
“Huh?”
“I fucked up.”
“Jay…”
“Fucked up not stepping in and claiming you when I could have.” I sit up in bed, one hand at my chest the other holding the phone to my ear. Is he saying what I think he is?
“Jason.”
“Fucked up before then. I should’ve done something about my feelings for you before I went to college, but I was too stupid and young to get it.”
“Jason”
“I’m done fucking up.”
“What do you mean?” I whisper, my skin filled with goosebumps.
“Been done for a while, Row. I know you don’t know this, but I have been done. Just had to straighten shit out, I couldn’t straighten shit out and do what I was doing and have you in my life like I wanted.”
“Honey, you’re not making sense.” My heart pounds in my chest.
“Good night, baby.”
“Jason, I don’t understand—”
“I know,” he cuts me off, and he sighs. Both of us are silent, and all I can do is wish he was next to me.
“But you will,” he drops ominously, and my heart flutters like it’s grown wings inside my chest.
“Jay.” I whisper his name hoping he doesn’t end the call when he suddenly asks, “Why did you break it off with Brad.”
Brad.
Brad had been the one man who had almost been able to help me forget Jason. He was a good guy, steady and reliable. We met in our late twenties. Both of us were settled into our lives, careers blossoming. We dated for three years. When he proposed, I couldn’t get myself to say yes. He wasn’t Jason. Part of me thinks he knew why and he was okay with me ending things shortly after.
“I…I don’t know…”
“I could have bet money he was going to put a ring on your finger,” Jason adds, and I exhale. I never told him—or anyone, other than my mom—Brad had proposed and I had said no.
“It wouldn’t have worked.” The heart wants what it wants, my mom’s words repeat in my head. My heart has always wanted Jason Somers.
“Like I said, I fucked up.”
“Come over.”
“What?”
“This is stupid!” I blurt out, biting the tip of my thumb, “Are we really talking about this? Us. For the first time in twenty years? Doing it on the phone like some kids with a crush?”
“Rocio—” The tortured sound of h
is voice makes me wake up completely. I understand now why he’s doing this.
“This is because I told you I was moving.”
“That doesn’t even make sense, and you’re not moving,” he bites, and I frown. Whatever hope I was starting to feel quickly fades away.
“If I do, what does it matter?” I ask him. If he cares like he’s insinuating with all his “I f’ed up” talk, he would be straight up and tell me. Right?
“You can’t leave me.” All I hear is he can’t lose his friend. His buddy. His row, row your boat.
“You are willing to lie to me, throw all this shit around in the middle of the night, all in order to what? Keep your best friend?”
“I would be willing to walk straight into the depths of Hell and back and anything it took, all so I wouldn’t lose my best friend.” I’m too angry to hear the honesty and emotion in his words, so I choose to ignore it.
“Seriously? You throw this at me the night before I’m supposed to meet one of your guys for a night—”
“Don’t,” he clips, and it only riles me up further.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t twist this into something ugly, Rocio.”
“I’m not the one being a dick, laying this on someone in the middle of the night, over the phone, instead of face-to-face, Somers!”
“You want face-to-face?”
“What?” I scowl. Like he would actually come over here.
“Open your goddamn door, Row,” he growls, and I freeze, sitting ramrod straight in bed.
“What?” I whisper. He’s joking. He has to be.
“Open. Your. Goddamn. Door.”
“Jason, it’s after three, it would take you like fifteen to get here—”
“I’m at the door. Don’t make me use my key, Row. You won’t like the consequences.”
“Jay…”
“One.”
“Jay…”
“Two.”
“Fine.”
“I’m not kidding, Row.”
“I said fine!” I huff getting off my bed and sneak a glimpse at myself as I pass the mirror over my dresser, “Just warning you though, Somers—”
“Don’t call me that,” he mutters, and I ignore it.
“If I hear one little thing about how I look like a hot mess, I’m going to remind you it is after three, and I was not expecting company!” I snap into the phone just as I reach the front door and open it wide in one long swoop, not believing he would be standing there.
But he is.
“Fuck,” his whispered curse makes me slightly jump. Olympic gold medal-worthy teams of butterflies flit to life. I take a small step back, still holding onto the doorknob.
“You’re here,” I stupidly point out, wincing at my awkwardness.
“I told you I was.”
“Since when?”
“About an hour before I called you.”
“Oh.” Oh? That’s all I can think to say? I shake my head. “I mean, why?”
“A driver isn’t coming tomorrow.”
“What?
“I’m shit at this,” he mutters under his breath, running his fingers through his dark curls.
“At what?” I ask nervously.
“I’m your man.” He steps forward, and my hand clenches on the doorknob—not to hold him back or because I fear him, but to help keep me up.
“You’re not making any sense—”
“That look in your eyes tells me I am. I was a fucking idiot kid when we met, I’m still not sure how we ended up friends, but fuck me, I’m glad we are.” He’s standing inches away from me, his body visibly tense.
“Jason—”
“The friendship we have…I can’t regret that. Even if it means I lost out on time with you. Row, you know everything about me.”
“Jay…”
“Everything,” he repeats, and his eyes turn soulful. “The good and the dark ugly shit, you know it all.” His hand comes up to my face, and the tender way he touches me makes me tremble. He makes me feel like I’m made of some delicate priceless porcelain. “You know what I’ve done and why.”
“Jason.”
“At first, I didn’t see the beauty, and when I did, you were dating and I thought we were better off friends. When Brad came into the picture and you guys stayed together for so long, I freaked out, Row. Then you ended. I thought I could get in there, show you I was worth taking a shot on even if I was living in New York.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“My Grandpa died, and I came back. Fuck, in those early days, baby, I almost thought it was a sign. It was time to stake my claim.”
“But?” I press, slightly scared of his answer. That had been ten years ago. My heart clenches in my chest at his words.
“The shop was a mess. I had to invest what I’d made in New York into it, and by doing that, I didn’t have anything to offer you.”
“What?”
“So I waited, and two years ago, the economy took a shit, and I had to make a decision.”
“To whore yourself and your guys out?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“I bet it was a tough one to make, Jason. All those women...”
“Rocio, it wasn’t like that.”
“I bet. Not like the idea of countless easy women paying you to give them what you probably would have given for free.”
“Baby—”
“You’ve told me about every woman.”
“Like I said, you know everything. Good and bad. In turn, baby, I know everything about you.”
“He did want to put a ring on it,” I confess, looking him straight in his eyes. My heart dares me to drown in those blue pools.
“What?”
“I said no.”
“Why?”
Dropping whatever common sense I have left, I open my mouth without a second thought, all the while thinking my mom is probably going to do cartwheels at the nonsensical courage I am suddenly donning.
“Because as wonderful as he was…he wasn’t you.”
I don’t even get a chance to blink with how fast he moves into my space. His hands pull me into his body, and I don’t think. Standing on the tips of my toes, my hands immediately search for the back of his head, letting my fingers savor the feel of his hair as our lips crash into one another.
Fierce, demanding to the point of almost punishing, is the only way I can describe our first kiss.
It’s perfect.
CHAPTER THREE
JASON
SHE TASTES AND FEELS BETTER than I could have imagined, and I’ve been imagining for way too damn long. She’s fucking perfect.
When she tells me what I’ve been waiting too long to hear, I swoop in and kiss her. I only wanted a small taste, something to hold me over until our date, but the road to Hell is paved in good intentions.
One small taste explodes into so much more. One of my hands roams south, cupping her ass, while the other goes north, tangling in the softness of her hair. With her body flush against mine, my fingers clench her and lightly tug her silky tresses.
“Fuck,” I curse against her lips, pulling away, while everything inside of me yells not to stop…to drag her inside, slam the door behind us, and take her on whatever flat surface is closest.
“Jay.”
“So fucking perfect,” I whisper, my voice like gravel, gripping her ass tighter in my hand. I love the sweet pink tinge over her face.
“You’re hard,” she points out, her voice slightly raspy. Rocio rubs her sweet little body into mine. My cock aches to get closer, and the sensation makes my eyes shut. I take a much-needed cleansing breath through my nose.
“I’m always fucking hard around you,” I admit, opening my eyes.
“You are?” Her pretty face pops up toward me, and her eyes widen in surprise.
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“I should go.” I groan, not moving from her doorway, leaning my forehead against hers.
�
��Or you could stay?” she suggests, and I curse again, closing my eyes tightly. I try to fight the temptation of how good that sounds.
“You shouldn’t offer that.”
“Why not?” Her hands cup my face and move me away so that I can look at her.
“Because I’ll take you up on it. I’m a man who’s been starving for the last two years, baby.”
“What?”
“I haven’t touched a woman since I decided I was done fucking around. You have to know you are it for me, Row.”
“What?” she lets my face go and takes a step back, like she doesn’t believe me, and I don’t blame her. “What about The Meat Market? The dates?”
“I don’t fuck those women. I don’t even kiss them, baby, unless you count Mrs. Baxter’s cheek.”
“Mrs. Baxter?”
“She’s a standing appointment. She likes to cook me dinner and talk. But I never let her pay. I always leave her envelope on the dinner table.”
“She’s like eighty.”
“Eighty-five,” I correct her, and Rocio looks at me like she’s seeing me for the first time.
“So, The Meat Market escorts…you didn’t get paid to…”
“The women pay for companionship. Friendship. A date. What the guys did after is their choice. They were escorts, not hookers,” I share, and rub one hand on the back of my neck, wondering what she’s thinking. Thankfully, she doesn’t let me hang too long.
Her hand extends to mine. Our fingers intertwine. My heart slams hard against my chest.
“Stay with me.”
“I should take you on a date,” I tell her, holding my body tightly. “If I walk into your place, knowing what your lips taste like, I can’t promise to keep my hands to myself and not take my fill of what other parts of you taste like.” She shivers, her skin covers with goosebumps, and my mouth waters to lick each and every one.
ROCIO
My chest heaves—rising and dropping. I don’t know how I’m still breathing. Nerves from being here like this with him. My best friend. The person who knows everything there is to know about me.
But I’m standing.
Somehow, someway, I am and haven’t made a complete ass out of myself.
“Fuck the date,” I tell him, thankful my voice doesn’t shake, and I watch his jaw clench. I can see the fight within him and knowing that, seeing it, makes me want him even more.
